


Saucy Little Mystery

by LilacCloud



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Bruce Wayne, Extremely Dubious Consent, Glory Hole, Jason is an Opportunist, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Restraints, Semi-Public Sex, Top Jason Todd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27947648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacCloud/pseuds/LilacCloud
Summary: If he should have walked away before, then he really shouldn't have ran a calloused hand over the flesh of the scarred ass cheek. And as rules of three go, Jasonreallyshouldn't have fucked Bruce. But as he had already done, Jason disregarded the warning voice in his head.---Or the time Jason finds Bruce in a glory hole.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 15
Kudos: 148





	Saucy Little Mystery

**Author's Note:**

> A dirty idea I had.

Jason was the first to connect the dots. He was back in Gotham, brimming with fury and pit madness, seeking revenge as the Red Hood. He wanted retribution. He wanted payment in the Joker's blood. 

He had followed Bruce. He had a simple plan. He was going to learn his routine. He was going to study his life and then he'd lay out his trap like a carefully woven spider web. Jason would lure Batman in and force him to kill the Joker. This would be his vengeance, this would be his justice— payed in full, an eye for an eye, a soul for a soul. Not that the Joker had one. 

So he had slinked through alleys, hid in the shadows of roofs, and that's how he found out about Bruce's little secret. 

It was a seedy establishment. The type with a neon sign out front and a dark alleyway for its clients to slip into without being seen. At first Jason didn't know what to expect when he saw Bruce disappear inside. It was like clockwork. The same every week; Wednesday night at 9pm, Bruce would park his car under the Grand Gotham hotel, change into a hoodie and jeans, then call a cab to take him to the end of Bridworth street in the Bowery. Jason would always make sure to get there first. He'd be waiting on a nearby roof so he could watch Bruce loiter for a few minutes before the man casually walked down the dark alley and disappeared into the side door of the club. 

Two hours. That's all it took for Bruce to do whatever he did and then leave. Jason kept waiting to see him leave with a girl on his arm, or at least see him interacting with another person but he never did. Like clockwork he'd just slip back out the side door and walk to the end of the street to catch a cab. 

Jason wouldn't exactly describe himself as a patient man. A few weeks of watching this saucy little mystery made him restless, so it hadn't been long before he was scaling down from his perch on the roof, and hopping through a back window into the brothel. As he had already deduced; it was a disreputable affair. He had broken into one of the client rooms but the two people fucking on the bed like animals didn't notice as he walked passed them. He shouldn't have, but he'd checked a few rooms then, ducking his head in to catch Bruce in the act, but he hadn't found him. 

Really, he should be glad. He didn't know what he had been thinking back then, going room to room as if he would have known what to do once he actually found Bruce. 

_"Oh hey, B. I know you're balls deep in a prostitute right now, but is now a good time to tell you I'm not dead?"_

Jason shuddered. Yep that would have been an awkward moment that would have haunted him for years.

So no, Jason hadn't found Bruce in the private rooms. He'd found him in the room at the back. 

It was a large room, the star attraction of the brothel if the amount of clients was anything to go by, and it was filled with glory holes. Male and female prostitutes lined the walls, their faces and upper bodies were obscured by the walls and their genitalia were presented in a varying series of positions. Some of them were spread eagle, their legs tied to the walls with thick sturdy rope as their torso and upper body disappeared behind the the wall. Some stood, bent over so that they could stick their ass in the air while their ankles were shackled to the floor. Other's had no body showing at all, simply just a hole pressed to an opening so that people could fuck it. 

Jason remembered the first time he had entered the room. He'd been shocked, to say the least, and he'd pulled the hood of his jacket down further over his eyes in case Bruce spotted him. He'd walked around the room, scanning the faces of the clients to find his target, but he never had found him.

Instead he'd found something else. A burly man finished fucking one of the holes and zipped his flaccid cock back into his jeans. Then he turned and left the ass sticking out of the wall. This one had been laid out on his back, his legs were folded in on themselves and tied calf to thigh before being tethered to the wall. Jason had stared at it for a long moment, taking in the way the cum trailed down from the puffy red hole and how bone-white scars littered nearly every inch of pale skin that was on show. 

Jason would have known Bruce's ass anywhere, and there it was winking at him from across the room. 

He should have left then, should have turned on his heel and not looked back. 

Then another client had walked up to Bruce. Jason hadn't even consciously moved, but the next thing he'd known is that he'd gotten a fist into the man's collar, and that he'd roughly shoved him out of the way. He didn't know what the man had seen in his eyes, but the guy had taken one look at Jason and walked away.

That had left Jason alone in his corner of the room with Bruce, and if he should have walked away before, then he really shouldn't have ran a calloused hand over the flesh of the scarred ass cheek. Bruce had jerked in his bindings, startled at the unseen touch, and his cock had given a slight twitch as lay spent between his legs. Jason was aware of each scar as his fingers trailed over it and the sensation ran up through his arm and straight to his own throbbing cock. 

As rules of three go, Jason really shouldn't have fucked Bruce. But as he had done before, Jason disregarded the warning voice in his head and pushed the flat head of his cock directly into Bruce's slack hole. 

Bruce was tight around him and he had moved restlessly in his restraints as Jason pushed fully into the slick heat. He was well endowed and he idly wondered if the twitch of Bruce's hips were excitement at getting a cock shoved into him, or discomfort at the stretch. Jason hoped it was the latter. He wanted this to hurt, although by the looks of things, Bruce had already been well used by the time Jason had got there. 

He gripped tight onto Bruce's thighs as he slid into the root so that his balls rested against the curve of Bruce's ass. Jason wanted to scream. The rage he felt for Bruce mixed with his lust like oil on water, and he wanted nothing more than to throttle the man he was fucking. He wanted to punch his face and spit at him. He wanted to ask why he had died and why the clown hadn't. He wanted to look Bruce in the eye and ask him if he ever really loved him. But he couldn't do that. Not here, at least.

So he let his hips do the talking instead. He pulled out and snapped them forward quickly, letting a barrage of sharp smacks hit against Bruce's ass. He did it with enough force so that his own hip bones stung as they slapped against the flesh, but he didn't let up, not when he could see a rosy tint begin to blossom across the pale ass. 

He fucked Bruce with excessive force, his cock disappearing in and out of the abused hole as Jason kept up a consistent speed. Anger boiled under his skin with each thrust, he had wanted to rip the wall between them away and grab Bruce by the throat. He wanted to shake Bruce and make him see who exactly was doing this to him. He wanted to say, "Look what I'm doing to you," and then watch as the realisation seeped in. 

But he didn't. He couldn't. Bruce felt too good. Jason was a slave to the motion, unable to stop thrusting into the welcoming heat even if a gun was pressed to his head. A shudder of pleasure ran up his spine. Bruce didn't know it was Jason and there was something dark about that that made a smile slip onto his face. What would Bruce do if he ever found out? Would he hunt Jason down and hurt him? Would he shout in disgust as he pummelled his fists into Jason's face? Jason hadn't known, but he had known that the soundproofing in the wall needed improving, because he could hear every single one of Bruce's muffled screams as he drove his length deep into the yielding flesh. 

When he finally came, it was nestled as far as he could between Bruce's legs. It was to the thoughts of blood and fighting, to the thoughts of his complete domination over a man that didn't even know he was alive. He pulled out and watched his come mix with the semen of clients past, and then he tucked himself back into his pants. He gave Bruce's ass an underhanded slap and then he left without preamble.

And that should have been it. He really shouldn't have returned.

But he did.

The next Wednesday. And the next, and the one after that. At 9pm, just like clockwork. 

**Author's Note:**

> It's not as long as the original idea I had, but hopefully it was still good.
> 
> You can visit me on Twitter [here!](https://twitter.com/cumslutbatman)


End file.
